Ivan and Amelia, Sitting in a Tree
by blommabelle
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on Russia and fem!America and their relationship. Russia/fem!America mostly with other hints of different pairings thrown in for good measure.
1. Chapter 1

**Ivan and Amelia, Sitting in a Tree**

_Story One_

_In which Ivan says something he will sincerely regret._

* * *

Russia had never seen America outright cry before. Sure, he'd seen her break down into tears a few times during her Civil War when she had been overcome with a freakish split-personality and she'd cried after Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor and after 9/11. But he'd never seen her straight out sob just for the sake of sobbing.

But that was exactly what she was doing. Quite suddenly, America had burst into tears without any warning. She sat on his couch and cried and cried and cried like a small child. It wasn't pretty crying, either. Her face was red and it looked like she had little rivers running down her cheeks.

Needless to say, he had no idea what to do. Because of his sisters, he was fully aware of the complexities of female emotions, and he was no stranger to crying thanks to Ukraine. But she cried so much that it was commonplace and it was easy to get her to stop. But America? No. She didn't cry like this, ever. And if she did, she made damn sure no one else would see it.

Several nations were over to discuss some trading deals. Thankfully, Russia was not the only one bearing witness to this very uncomfortable moment. Germany and the Italy brothers sat nearby, all of them gaping and shifting uncomfortably as America snorted when her snot began to run down her nose. England looked like he was in between yelling at her to knock it off or crying himself. France seemed to be contemplating something while Canada twitched, unsure if America would be open to being comforted.

Russia was sitting right next to her and he could feel everyone look at him expectantly, like he was expected to do something. He really wasn't sure how he could possibly be of any assistance, but he sighed. He supposed he did have the most experience when it came to calming a crying girl.

_Thanks, Ukraine_, he thought quietly. After a moment, he tentatively placed a hand on her back.

America stiffened and looked at him, frowning. However, she just hiccupped and then buried her face in her hands, a new round of ear-splitting wails reverberating off the walls of Russia's large house.

Once upon a time, Russia had longed to see America break down like this. But now that it was happening, he couldn't believe he'd ever wanted it.

England managed to catch Russia's attention. Russia glanced up at him, frowning, and read England's lips.

_Calm her down_.

Russia's eyebrows shot up. _Me?_

_Yes, you_! England's massive eyebrows furrowed.

_You do it_!

England sighed and then stood to make an attempt. He knelt down in front of America and cleared his throat.

"Amelia, sweetheart," he said slowly. Her crying didn't get any quieter and he was forced to raise his voice. "Amelia, why don't you tell me what's got you so upset, hm? Do you want to talk about it?"

In a surprise turn of events, America mumbled, "N-no!"

Everyone was shell-shocked. America _always_ wanted to talk. The fact that she didn't want to say anything was… well, frankly, it was alarming. Russia couldn't count the many times he had cringed while America made her various seemingly trivial displeasures known to a plethora of family members, cashiers, politicians and… well, Russia himself. She was loud and made sure everyone knew everything about her.

So with this new piece of information, the room fell absolutely silent save for America's continued wailing.

"Now, Amelia, how are we supposed to help you if you won't tell us what's wrong?" England asked, his voice a bit strained. He was starting to sweat. "Do you want to speak privately? I'm willing to listen."

"No!" She shook her head furiously and Russia noticed suddenly that his hand was still resting on her back. "I don-don't wanna! Leave... _hiccup_… leave me alone!"

"Amelia…"

"_Leave me alone_!" Her sobbing grew in volume and England stood up, nearly yanking his hair from his head.

"OH, NOW THAT I WANT TO HELP YOU SUDDENLY DON'T WANT TO TALK?!" England stomped his foot on the ground. "SAY SOMETHING, DAMMIT!"

America glared up at him furiously, anger sparking in her blue eyes. "_Shut up, Arthur! Focus on taking care of those massive eyebrows instead of annoying the shit out of me! It looks like Chewbacca wiped his ass on your forehead_!"

England let out a wild gasp while France burst into uproarious laughter.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HELP YOU IF YOU WON'T LET ME?" England yelled. France jumped up from his seat and attempted to drag England out of the room. "DON'T YOU WANT HELP, WOMAN?!"

After England was (forcibly) escorted out by France, everyone else was left to continue to deal with America's sobs.

Germany suddenly stood and walked forward briskly. "I've had much experience with Italy. I'm sure this will be easy."

Everyone else looked a bit doubtful. Germany cleared his throat.

"Now, now," he said awkwardly as he stiffly patted her head. "Stop this crying. It's foolish."

Faster than a bolt of lightning, America punched Germany swiftly in the stomach. Germany let out a loud _whoosh_ of air and crumbled a bit. Italy dragged him back to the couch to sit down and catch his breath while Romano snickered.

"Maybe… maybe I can help?" Canada piped up. No one looked at him as he walked over and nervously mumbled, "Um… Mia? Can you please stop crying? Please?"

America didn't so much as react and neither did anyone else. Canada continued to plead, not that anyone noticed or heard.

Russia sighed, realizing that he was their last hope, as strange as it was. He began to rub soothing circles on her back and repeated quietly that everything was going to be okay.

To everyone's shock, America's crying began to subside. She leaned into Russia and relaxed, her sobs becoming nothing more than sniffles. With red-rimmed eyes, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Ivan." She blew her nose on a tissue that Romano offered her. "I feel much better now."

Russia smiled and said, without thinking, "So, your period's pretty bad this month, huh?"

He was swiftly knocked unconscious. When Russia woke up, he was in a snowbank in Siberia wearing a Captain America t-shirt with the words "I'M AN INSENSITIVE ASS" written in permanent marker on his forehead.

It was at that moment that Russia realized he might have said the wrong thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ivan and Amelia, Sitting in a Tree**

_Story Two_

_In which America smacks her gum_

* * *

Russia tightened his grip on his pen as he glanced at America, annoyed. For some reason she had decided to sit next to him for the meeting rather than by England and Canada, like she usually would. He had noticed her bickering with the Englishman earlier but hadn't bothered to listen in on what they were saying. All he knew was that when the argument had been over, America had stomped over to the other side of the table, grabbed China by the collar of his shirt and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor before sliding into the seat. China, annoyed but not exactly in the mood for a black eye, grumbled and went to sit by England.

So now Russia was stuck sitting next to America, which wouldn't have been so terrible if it weren't for the fact that she was smacking her gum. Loud. In his ear.

It was hard enough to pay attention during these meetings. Usually the most interesting topic that they covered was the weather. So the fact that America was popping her gum so close to his ear was making it all the more difficult to pay attention to Iceland's speech about his country's economic advancements.

_…smack, smack, smack_…

"…by about fifteen percent last year, and that's estimated to double this year considerably. I think we should be nearing…"

_…smack, smack, smack…_

"…the possibility of a recession is slim, though efforts to decrease this possibility are being implemented by…"

…_smack, smack, POP!_

Russia couldn't take it anymore. Now she was blowing massive bubbles. He stood up so quickly his chair flew back and he whirled on America who seemed more or less unperturbed by his sudden movements. Everyone else gasped and Poland even let out a feminine shriek and England cursed.

America regarded Russia calmly. "Wassup?" _Smack, smack, smack…_

"Would you please stop chewing your gum so loudly?" Russia asked as calmly as he could. He could feel the dark energy beginning to form around him.

_Smack, smack, smack_… "What are you talking about?"

"You're smacking your gum," he replied. "In my ear. While I'm trying to listen. Could you… not?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I am? Sorry, dude. I'll keep it on the D.L., know what I'm saying?"

Russia had no idea what she was saying, but he got the gist of it. He sat down and calmly began taking notes. Everyone else relaxed and went back to the meeting.

"Um…" Iceland shuffled through his papers, trying to find where he had left off. "Let's see… ah, this should boost the world economy greatly. By increasing…"

_…smack, smack, smack…_

Oh, no. No, no, no. NYET.

_…smack, smack, smack…_

Russia's grip tightened on his pen so hard that it broke. Ink splattered on the table and his notes. Iceland fell silent as Russia slowly stood, turning to glare at America.

She stared at him, still smacking her damn gum. "What?"

"You're still doing it."

"I am?"

"Da."

"Oh. Tough luck, dude."

"Tough… luck?"

"Yeah. As in I _just_ put this piece of gum in my mouth, and the fruity flavor is giving me a mouthgasm. If you want to get this gum out of my mouth, you'll have to reach in and grab it." She laughed. _Smack, smack, smack_…

Russia gave her a dark look. "That can be arranged."

America narrowed her eyes at him when he suddenly lunged forward and tackled her out of her chair and onto the ground. She gasped and kicked him in the stomach, making him grunt from the force of it. He was jostled off of her enough so she could spin onto her stomach and attempt to army crawl away.

Russia moved fast. He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back. Sitting up, he brought her with him, wrapping his legs around her and then pinning her arms to her side with one hand while gripping her chin with the other.

The craziest part was that the entire time this went down, she was _still_ smacking her damn gum.

"That wasn't an invitation, you creep!" When Russia tried to shove his fingers past her lips, America bit him hard enough to draw blood. She sputtered and spat while Russia yanked his hand away from her. He was surprised enough to loosen his hold, causing her to squirm out of his lap.

"Dammit!" She spit her gum out and it landed in France's hair, much to the delight of England and horror of the poor Frenchman. "You ruined my gum! I should shoot you in the face!"

"You nearly bit my finger off." Russia had torn off Lithuania's shirt and was using it as a sort of bandage. "But at least you are not smacking your gum anymore."

America glared at him. Germany was quick to try to calm everyone down. They all sat, even Russia, who was still pressing Lithuania's shirt to the bite that little she-demon had…

There was a rustling of what sounded suspiciously like a wrapper. Russia turned his head a little and felt his stomach bottom out and his mind become consumed by fiery rage. She was popping another piece of radioactive pink gum into her mouth.

_Smack, smack, smack_…

Oh, dear God, no.

_…smack, smack, smack_…

Russia was _not_ going through this again. Without another word, he whirled around in his chair, leaned over, and kissed her.

America's eyes flew wide and a collective gasp was heard. Russia felt victorious as she let out a surprised gasp and he quickly took advantage of her now-open mouth. Sliding his tongue in, he fished around until he found it.

Perfect. Scooping up the gum, he slid his tongue out and then pulled away. He gave her a smug look and then turned back to the meeting, chewing the gum. America had gone white as a sheet and was gaping at him like a kid who had just walked in on their parents.

Russia smiled at everyone else sweetly and chewed _quietly_ on his gum. "Da, I think we can continue now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Ivan and Amelia, Sitting in a Tree**

_Story Three_

_In Which Amelia Plays Footsie _

* * *

Bored. Bored, bored, bored. America was more bored than two bored things at a Bored Convention. World Meetings sucked more than a thirsty mosquito trapped in a tent.

And it looked like she was the only one who was bored, too, much to her bored amazement. Germany, as always, was studiously taking notes and nodding his head in agreement or dissent. England was basically doing the same while France was half-listening as he checked his hair for split ends. Even the Italy brothers were listening, although North Italy was eating pasta and South Italy was occasionally smacking Spain on the arm for shifting his seat a little too close. Russia wasn't taking notes, but he was nodding ever so often while he listened.

While not everyone was listening, they were keeping themselves entertained. Ugh, the meeting wasn't even about anything interesting. It was all about some stupid stuff she didn't care about, like economics stuff and population density or whatever.

America tried to get England's attention. Maybe he could keep her entertained. She kicked his foot under the table and he jumped, turning to glare at her.

_What_? he mouthed, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

_I'm bored_, she replied.

_So? That's not my problem._

She pouted. _But Artie! This is so lame_!

He just shook his head and turned his attention back to the meeting. America stuck out her lower lip and continued to stare at him, but no matter how long she stared, he didn't so much as spare her a glance.

Well, fine. If he wouldn't entertain her, she would _make_ him entertain her. A mean little idea formed in her mind and she suppressed a giggle. She was going to make him _so_ regret ignoring her.

America let her foot wander over to his. She teasingly toed him a little, letting her foot rub against his in a sort of sensual manner.

England didn't even look at her, though he did kick her. She recoiled a bit, surprised by how strong his kick had been, but that just made her return with more tenacity. Her foot made its way up his ankle and began its ascent to his knee.

Once more, she was kicked, but she didn't move back this time. Biting back a nasty grin, she had to wonder why England didn't appear to be reacting at all. His attention was fully focused on China, who was yammering on about foreign trading or something equally as boring.

She decided to double her efforts. Playing with his knee momentarily, she let her foot move up his inner thigh. She was getting very close to the gold. By the gold, she meant his penis.

_He's got some amazing acting skills_, she thought, biting her tongue a little in concentration. She grinned when he squeezed his legs together, trying to keep her away from her destination.

_No one can stop America_! She sank a little in her seat to reach farther. Canada, who was sitting beside her, stared at his sister with some confusion as she continued to lower in her seat until only her eyes were visible above the table.

Using her strength and her newfound leverage, she pried his legs open and grinned. _Jackpot_.

Still, there was no reaction from England. She frowned and began to rub with some more determination. _Jesus, what does it take to get this guy going_? She had to say, she did _not_ envy France. It must've been a real bitch to get Arthur to do any sexytimes if he didn't get turned on by, like, _anything_. Who could possibly resist her?

Suddenly her foot fell as the lap was pulled away. America frowned and peeked up at England. He hadn't moved, though. But…

Her eyes widened when she saw that Russia was standing and glaring at her, his face bright red. He didn't just look pissed, he looked _livid_. Sitting up a bit in her seat, she flinched when he began to yell at her in Russian. Only a few countries, including herself, could understand what he was saying, and none of it was nice.

The meeting had fallen silent. Russia stormed out, still yelling. Finally, everyone turned to glare at America.

"What the bloody hell did you do?" England demanded. "Don't tell me you took your boredom out on _Russia_ of all people!"

America winced a little. "Um… I may have played footsie with him because I thought he was you. I was doing it because you wouldn't entertain me!"

England gaped at her like a fish out of water. "Where did I go wrong with you?!"

"More like where did you go _right_?" France asked, chuckling. "Oh, dear _Amerique_! I am so proud of you!"

* * *

**Author Notes**

Anyone ever been stuck in a tent with a mosquito buzzing around in there before? Yeah. It sucks.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who has favorited and commented! It's like writer fuel!

Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Ivan and Amelia, Sitting in a Tree**

_Story Four_

_In Which Ivan Gets Some_

* * *

"My turn!" America squealed. Several countries looked more than a little excited at the prospect of being able to make out with America, despite her obnoxious behavior. She grabbed the bottle and spun it hard enough so that it was nothing more than a blur. "Oh, boy!"

Sitting in the circle, against his will, mind you, was Russia. But he couldn't help but eye the bottle with interest and sort of hope that it landed on him. He wouldn't mind spending seven minutes alone with America in a closet.

The bottle began to slow and everyone was much quieter. England stood over America's shoulder, fully ready to glare at whoever it was that was going to defile his little sister.

The bottle slowed… and slowed… and slowed… and stopped. On Lithuania.

America let out a cheer and clapped her hands together while Lithuania turned bright red. "Aw, yeah! Toris, looks like you're the lucky winner!"

Russia had been sitting by Lithuania and felt rather… well, cheated. He turned to face his old "friend" and could feel his dark aura starting to show.

"Congratulations, Toris," Russia said, his innocent smile promising bloodshed. "It looks like you are the chosen one."

Lithuania began to shake. In a very not-discreet way, he kicked the bottle so that it turned just a little and pointed at Russia instead.

"Oh, I-I think there's been a mis-mistake!" he said, pointing at the bottle with a shaky finger. "It la-landed on Mr. R-Russia! Not m-me!"

"Oh! It did?" Russia's dark aura went away and he turned his innocent smile to America. "How silly of everyone to make the same mistake."

America and England eyed Russia quietly. England really wanted to bury the Russian alive, but considering it was _Russia_… he backed off a bit, mindful to shoot him a dirty look as he made his way into France's kitchen, mumbling about drinking some wine. France followed eagerly, knowing that wine tended to make England slutty.

"Let us be getting this show on the road, da?" Russia stood and yanked America to her feet, corralling her into the closet. He shut the door, giving everyone a victorious smile that said _I don't care how much time passes, do NOT open this door_.

And then he shut it.

His mind gave him a good mental picture of exactly how America would look in this situation. Cowering in a corner, perhaps, her blue eyes wide and innocent, her expression almost scared, and definitely submissive. Yes, she would be—

When Russia turned, he was shocked to see America casually poking through France's personal items, apparently uncaring that she was trapped in a small, dark closet with a terrifying sadist.

"Oh, who would've guessed old Francy-Pants would be a hoarder, huh?" She yanked out a dirty magazine and laughed. "Ha! Ivan, check this, it's, like, a bajillion years old. They're hardly even showing their ankles! Ha!"

Russia pouted at first, but upon hearing her address him, he smiled and walked over. He peered at the magazine in passing before he saw something a little more interesting. "Is that a dress?"

America looked up and frowned as she pulled it off the hanger. "Yeah, it is. What the hell does he have a dress in here for? It looks like it's not even cut for a woman… oh. Oh, God! This is for a man!"

She then fell into a fit of giggles and was reaching into her pocket for something. She took a picture of the dress and then began to frantically text someone.

"Mathias and Gil are going to _die_," she chortled. "Actually, Gil probs already knew about this. Whatevs."

Russia shifted a little impatiently. "Amerika, not that going through other people's things isn't fun, but do you think we could use our time in here wisely?"

"What? Oh! You wanna get some!" She smiled and tossed her phone aside carelessly. While Russia had been hoping for a little innocent-girl act, he didn't get one. Instead he was met with a vixen. She backed him up until he hit the door and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Let's see… how much time do we have left?"

Russia gulped. "Um… four minutes."

"Plenty of time," she purred. Then, much to Russia's delight, she pounced.

* * *

"Alright, their bloody time is up!" England announced angrily. He drunkenly flung the door open and gaped at the sight before him.

America was buttoning up Russia's shirt. Both of them looked beyond disheveled, and England noticed that Russia had… were those bite marks on him? What the hell?!

Plus, Russia looked _way_ too satisfied. And America looked _way_ too pleased with herself.

"What the bloody hell were you two doing in here?" England slurred. "You! Russia! You better not have defiled my sister, you brute!"

"Oh, _contraire_, Iggy," America sing-songed. "_I_ defiled _him_. I'm going to help him home, I think I wore him out."

* * *

**Author Notes**

Honononon~, as France would say! I love vixen America. It makes way more sense to me than submissive America, which I've seen in a lot of fics between these two. I think America would dominate Russia in bed. Just saiyan.

-Yay! Russia got some action! I'll let you guys decide exactly what went down during those four minutes ;)

-Haha, it took England less than seven minutes to get drunk. On wine. Seven minutes to get drunk on wine. France was probably making him guzzle bottle after bottle with one of those funnels or something.

-Hey, for those of you following 'Ain't No Rest for the Wicked'-Awesome Trio nod! Of course she'd text Prussia and Denmark about France keeping drag in his closet!

Thanks to everyone who has favorited and reviews! I love reading what you guys have to say! Keep 'em comin'! Also, if anyone has any ideas for these two or anything you'd like to see them do, I'd love to hear them! :)


	5. Chapter 5

_Story Five_

_In which Ivan and Amelia make a scandalous deal_

* * *

America let out a horrified shriek that she quickly tried to change into a laugh. "Woah! Totally lame, am I right, Creeper?"

Russia, meanwhile, trailed behind her, looking so annoyed that even the employees trying to scare them wouldn't approach him. Some of them even wondered if he was a new hire or something he looked so terrifying.

"_Da_, it is as you say, _Amaliji_. 'Totally lame'."

Laughing in agreement, she let out another scream as some man in a second-rate Freddy Krueger outfit popped out of nowhere, waving his knifed-up hand in America's face. Her scream was loud enough to make Russia flinch.

_Why did I agree to come to Spooktown with her again_? He rolled his eyes as America grabbed his arm and dragged him along, trembling and clearly terrified out of her mind.

She had shown up at his place the day before, jumping around excitedly as she shoved a flier into his gloved hands. She had then babbled endlessly about a new haunted attraction in town that she wanted to check out. She had then informed him that Japan was busy in a meeting with South Korea and couldn't come and England had told her he was spending the day with Norway and Romania and wouldn't have come if he had free time anyway.

When Russia had asked whether or not she had questioned Canada to go with, she had looked at him blankly and asked him who that was. By the time she finally asked, however, Russia had forgotten who he was talking about and quickly denied her.

"Aw, please?!" she had whined, sticking her foot in the doorway to keep it from shutting. "_Please_ come with me? No one else will goooooo!"

"I have no interest in doing something so stupid. Go away or I will tell Belarus that you are harassing me."

America then dropped to her knees, shooting Russia the best puppy eyes she could manage. They were the cutest damn puppy eyes he'd ever seen in his life and he felt his resolve waning a bit.

"If you come with me I'll let you… I'll… I'll let you touch my boobs!"

Now _that_ definitely had his interest. "How long?"

She seemed a bit taken aback, but she quickly scrambled to her feet and grinned. "Uh… twenty seconds good?"

"Do I get to squeeze them at all?"

"Twice."

This was definitely interesting. "Under or over the bra?"

"Um…" America blushed. "I don't usually wear bras. Too confining. I like to be free falling, if you get me."

That was all it had taken for Russia to quickly agree and join her the next day at this so-called Spooktown, but as far as he could tell, it was about the most half-witted operation he had yet to witness in America, and he had been in that stupid children's restaurant with the mechanical singing mouse. America had once stupidly thrown England a surprise birthday there.

And now he was walking through one of the attractions—_Frightmare House_—with America hanging off of him and faking at being unafraid.

How pathetic.

But still, the allure of touching America's "free-falling" boobs was not something he was willing to stick his nose up at.

After several hours of going through the different haunted attractions—his favorite being _Hillbilly Hotel_ because he thought it rather well portrayed the average American citizen—America finally broke down in the _Clown Maze_ and fled the park.

Russia found her waiting by her car, acting as if she hadn't just shrieked, "THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!" at a man in a clown costume loud enough for everyone within a fifty kilometer radius to hear before she fled. Russia had seen twelve-year-olds in that park, and none of them had even looked remotely scared.

"Haha, that was so stupid, am I right?" America clapped her hands and shook her head. "Well, hopefully they've got something better next time. Anyway, as promised, the purple mountains majesties are here for you to fondle!"

She then stuck out her chest and grinned proudly as Russia eyed her chest with interest before shaking his head.

"I will collect soon enough, but later," he said when her expression became crestfallen and slightly offended. "I just need to be mentally prepared."

"Ah, yeah, I bet the awesomeness would be too much to handle without some serious meditation or whatever." America then got into the car and Russia followed with a tiny smirk on his face.

* * *

Yet another stupid world meeting was taking place, and this year they were in Vienna. Everyone was chatting amongst themselves before the meeting actually started, and Russia watched America closely as she shoved chips into her mouth, laughing at something France was saying to England. Japan stood next to her, smiling as well and glancing at America almost worriedly, like he was afraid she was going to choke if she didn't slow down.

Russia stood abruptly from his seat and walked over, a small smile on his face as he made his way over to the four of them. Upon seeing him, England and France's eyes widened. Sensing something, Japan also turned.

True to form, America didn't notice a damn thing outside of her chips. Not until Russia tapped her shoulder, anyway.

"Wassat?" America turned and then smiled. "Oh, hey, dude. Judging by the rape face, I'd say you're here to collect?"

"_Da_."

Without any other preamble, Russia pulled his gloves off and tossed them aside, then slid his hands up her shirt. A very satisfied smile came over his face and America just casually continued to eat.

Once England managed to get over the shock, he let out a high-pitched shriek. "_What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, you pervert_?!"

England began to fumble for some kind of weapon (they had been banned from meetings during the Cold War for obvious reasons) while France and Japan just sort of watched, unsure of what to think given how little of a reaction this was getting from America.

"Relax, Iggy, Ivan and I have a thing," she said. "Japan, could you grab my Coke? I'm kinda tied down for a few more seconds—"

"Thirteen more seconds," Russia replied, giving her boobs a squeeze. He grinned at the tiny '_eep_' America made.

"Thirteen more… what the bloody hell is this?!" England looked about ready to really lose it. "What 'thing'? What's happening?! Why does _he_ look so happy?" This last part was directed at Russia.

"Obviously, he is clutching _Amerique's_ ample bosom. How can he not be happy?" France asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"This may be a good humor scene for a doujinshi I have been stuck on," Japan murmured, excusing himself quickly to get down some preliminary sketches and dialogue before the muses cut him off.

"Three… two… and one," America announced. Russia gave one more squeeze and then removed his hands and put his gloves back on. "Alrighty, then, see ya! Oh, and thanks!"

"Of course, Amelia. Anytime." Russia winked and headed back to his seat.

"What just happened?!" England halfway roared as America turned her attention back to them. "Why did that wanker just start molesting you?!"

America frowned. "Did Japan ever get my Coke…? Eh, figures."

"Are you ignoring me?!"

America sighed and rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Iggy, he just grabbed my boobs is all!"

"_That's_ my point!" England rubbed his temples as France smiled and gave America a thumbs-up. "Good God, what I am supposed to do with you? And his _face_! I mean, that man is terrifying normally, but _that_ look isn't one I'd care to see again!"

"Oh, he probably looked all hot and bothered and rape-y because I let my sweet chariots swing low today." America shrugged. "Anyway, looks like meeting's getting started."

She ambled off and left England to frown and wondering what she was talking about. France, of course, knew immediately.

"_Honononon_~! I did not know that _Amerique_ was so scandalous!"

It was then that England realized what she had meant. "I… I'm going home. I give up. I give up on life and logic and… everything. I'm gone."

* * *

**Author Notes**

Haha, Russia got a pretty good reward for that little deal. Think he'd go again if she asked him?

-My friends once took me to one of those haunted theme parks, only it was on a boat. I didn't think it was especially scary until we got to the clown with a bloody chainsaw. Not. Cool.

-The mechanical singing mouse-What restaurant IS this? I can't remember the name. All I remember is that my cousin had a birthday party here and I went and the food was gross and there were kids everywhere and then this mouse started singing and... God. I just didn't know what to do with myself. So I sat down in a booth and quietly died inside. But can you imagine America throwing England a surprise party there? She'd probably have the time of her life.

-I realized the other day that I forgot to update this one while I was at work and I was all, "Oh no!" So here I am when I should be asleep. But why would I fall asleep at a reasonable hour when I work in the morning? No, that would be too convenient for me! Boo.

-Oh, yeah, and _Amaliji_ is a Russian form of 'Amalia', which is a form of 'Amelia'. Obviously. I've read a lot of RusAme where Russia fondly calls America 'Fredka', so this is what I came up for his female counterpart.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! I love reading your reviews! Thanks for all the love!


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